


Things Fall Apart

by verhalen



Series: Seeds of Fire [16]
Category: Flameborn (Multiverse), Flameborn Omegaverse, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha Finarfin, Alpha Nerdanel, Alternate Universe, Dying whale noises, Exile to Formenos, F/M, Incest, Just very sad, M/M, Multi, Nerdanel puts up with A Lot, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Fëanor, Omega Verse, One Shot, Punched In The Feels, Sad, breaking up, i'm not crying you're crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verhalen/pseuds/verhalen
Summary: Before he leaves for his exile to Formenos, Fëanor and Nerdanel have a fraught conversation.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Finarfin | Arafinwë/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Series: Seeds of Fire [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418458
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Things Fall Apart

**Author's Note:**

> In this verse, "Oma" is the term for "Omega parent who gave birth, irrespective of gender". Mahtan is an Omega here.
> 
> _
> 
> If you recognize the song Maglor is playing, you get a gold Fëanorion star. 😂

_Thou speakest of thraldom. If thraldom it be, thou canst not escape it; for Manwë is King of Arda, and not of Aman only. And this deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman. Therefore this doom is now made: for twelve years thou shall leave Tirion where this threat was uttered. In that time take counsel with thyself, and remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee._  
  
Manwë's proclamation echoed in his head as Fëanor watched the servants of his household packing everything they could. Maedhros was helping, as were the other sons, though the Ambarussa were still young yet.  
  
And then there was Maglor, who was helping by... playing his harp. Trying to provide music to work to... trying to keep up morale.  
  
Fëanor sighed, closing his eyes as Celegorm walked past - the most notable evidence of his indiscretion, with silver-gold hair like his sire. It had been his birth that had gotten people talking. And that talk had built up over the years. Fëanor had made the Silmarils while Celegorm had been off on one of his hunting trips, so his next choice for silver-gold hair had been Finarfin's daughter Galadriel... but Galadriel of course knew it was Finarfin's hair that Fëanor really wanted, and was not taking because when the Valar inevitably asked what they were made of that was extremely indiscrete. And Galadriel, pious as she was, hated Fëanor for "corrupting" her father; they were unfriends forever.  
  
And though Fëanor had talked a good game about the Light of the Trees, and that wasn't entirely a lie for what had inspired them, there was nonetheless a sentiment in Valinor that Fëanor was a bit too fond of his brothers... three Silmarils, one Silmaril for Fëanor and one for each brother.  
  
Before the Valar could discover their sin, and pass judgment, Fëanor did what he had to do, to pretend he hated his brothers both. Especially Fingolfin, whom he had first sinned with. It was one of the most difficult things Fëanor had ever done, but he would do it again, even with what it cost him.  
  
This exile was costing him dearly.  
  
Though Fingolfin and Finarfin had secretly vowed to make covert trips to Formenos, in disguise, Fëanor knew they couldn't do so often. And there was the matter of Finwë going along to "keep an eye". That was going to make it even harder to skulk around.  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
"Maglor, this is so sad... play 'Slowly'," Fëanor said.  
  
Maglor flexed his fingers and made a flourish on the harp, then began to pluck out the lilting tune as he sang:  
  
 _Yes, you know that I've been looking at you for a while  
I have to dance with you today  
I saw, that your look was calling me  
Show me the way that I'm going oh  
You, you are the magnet and I'm the metal  
I'm getting closer and I'm setting up the plan  
Just the thought of it accelerates the pulse  
Now I'm enjoying it more than usual  
All my senses are asking for more  
This must be taken without any trouble  
  
Slowly  
I want to breathe on your neck slowly  
Let me tell you things in your ears  
So that you remember when you're not with me  
Slowly  
I want to undress you with kisses slowly  
Sign the walls of your labyrinth  
And make your whole body a manuscript..._  
  
The song usually made Fëanor feel better but now he was reminded of Fingolfin and Finarfin again, and that made it worse. He needed to get some air.  
  
Nerdanel was outside, looking up at the sky, her auburn locks blowing in the breeze. Fëanor put a hand on her shoulder and twined a hair around his finger.  
  
"Hello, my love," Fëanor said.  
  
"Hello." Nerdanel's tone was flat, and cold.  
  
 _Oh shit. Not again._ Fëanor slowly withdrew his hand and cleared his throat. "I told the servants to stay out of your little nook until you were there to supervise. Figured you'd be as cautious about them packing your things as I am about what's in my forge -"  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
 _Aw come on, Nel..._ Desperate for some kind of resolution, to cling to what he had, Fëanor grasped at levity. "Hi Not Going, I'm -"  
  
Nerdanel finally turned to face him. "I mean it, Fëanáro."  
  
Fëanor sighed. "You do realize it's twelve years, right -"  
  
"I am well aware of that. But I think you and I both know it's been over for awhile."  
  
Fëanor looked down at his shoes, down at the grass, and then back up at Nerdanel's eyes. "Is there anything I can say or do to make you reconsider...?"  
  
"Not anymore. The time for that has already passed."  
  
Fëanor nodded. There had been a distance between them for some time, but there was a difference between a rift and just ending things. The finality of it smashed Fëanor's heart like so much glass, but he just kept nodding, pretending that it didn't bother him, when inside he was screaming with pain. He would not give her - or anyone - the satisfaction of seeing him cry. That would come later.  
  
Fëanor met her eyes again. His pride made him want to storm off without another word, but their history had been such that he felt he owed her at least a few more minutes of his time. "Can I at least ask why?" In the back of his mind he could hear Fingolfin's voice, _may I._  
  
"Isn't it obvious? Oh right, I forget who I'm talking to..."  
  
"Ouch." Fëanor was an inventor, a creator, but when it came to personal matters, he hadn't known Nerdanel fancied him, nor Fingolfin. At least Finarfin had been much more straightforward about his interest.  
  
Nerdanel cocked her head to one side. "You're a mess."  
  
"No shit."  
  
"I still can't believe you, _threatening_ Fingolfin like that -"  
  
"Nel. You do realize why I did it, right? Do you understand what they -" He knew she knew he meant the Valar. "- would have done to me if I _hadn't_ done that? Would have done to all of us? You? Our children?"  
  
"I am aware that they frown upon the sort of thing that you get up to with your brothers, yes. But there was a better way to deal with it than _putting a sword to your brother's throat._ "  
  
Fëanor grasped at levity again. "Well, _as you know_ , he likes it when I put my sword in his throat..."  
  
Nerdanel facepalmed. Then she glared. "There was a time when I would have found that funny. Not anymore."  
  
"Don't tell me that _just now_ you decided to have a problem with me and Ñolofinwë, me and Arafinwë."  
  
"I don't," Nerdanel said. "I'm the one who made you and Ñolo pull your heads out of your asses, in case you remember. My problem is that you're trying to laugh this off. Again."  
  
"If I don't laugh, I cry."  
  
The silence hung between them for a moment, and Fëanor knew that even though Nerdanel's love for him had cooled long ago, that still hit a nerve.  
  
Then Nerdanel went on. "The bigger issue, though, is your recklessness. You didn't even come to me and ask 'hey Nel, the Silmarils are making people gossip, what do I do?' You just..." Nerdanel threw her hands in the air and then they rested on her hips. "Do what you usually do. Ready, fire, aim. Except now you went and got yourself exiled. Great job, Fëanáro. Did you at any time think about how the Valar would react to your little outburst? How that would affect our children? How it would affect _me_?"  
  
Fëanor sighed, feeling a little stab of guilt - a stab breaking the shattered pieces of his heart even further. The last thing he had wanted was to cause Nerdanel pain. _I ruined your life._ And yet, he knew perfectly damn well he would do it again, because he had to, and that was something Nerdanel did not understand. "Our sons seem to be fine with moving."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Nel. You always liked going on vacation to Formenos in the past. Why can't we start over?" Fëanor hated the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, feeling like he was begging, another wound to his pride, another piece of his heart shattering.  
  
"Because we can't."  
  
" _Nel._ "  
  
" _Fëanáro._ " Nerdanel was all stern scowling again. "I am not leaving everything behind and following you all the way to Formenos so I can wait and see how next you're going to act a fool. I am tired of this. I am _done._ You are too..." Nerdanel made a vague hand gesture. "Too... too..."  
  
"Too _what._ "  
  
"You are A Lot. I can't deal with it anymore."  
  
"Well, with my father insisting to come along to keep me in line as if I am a child, there's not much trouble I can get into, is there?"  
  
"Fëanáro, you are trouble."  
  
"And once upon a time, that was why you loved me."  
  
"Once upon a time, it was. Then I grew up."  
  
That was like a slap in the face.  
  
Fëanor was angry now - some of it was with Nerdanel, but most of it was with the Valar. If they had not had their stupid, unnatural Laws in the first place, and if Manwë had not been such a hypocrite - so full of the pride he dared judge Fëanor for - none of this would be happening. "I don't know why you want to stay here. Surely you must see how _wrong_ this is. If you have no more care for me, have a care for the world our children and their children will live in. Help me to throw down the Valar -"  
  
" _Throw down the Valar._ " Nerdanel's eyebrows shot up. "Fëanáro Finwion, have you been eating _mushrooms_?"  
  
"No, I am perfectly sober. Too sober." Fëanor wanted to get very, very drunk when this conversation was over.  
  
"Even if I thought that you weren't completely _out of your damn mind_ wanting to... to... take on the Valar..." Nerdanel shook her head and gestured to him. "Manwë is not all of the Valar. Aulë has been kind to my family -"  
  
"Aulë is culpable - he could challenge Manwë's rule and he does not. As far as I'm concerned he's guilty too. They all are."  
  
Nerdanel took a few steps back.  
  
"You took an oath to me," Fëanor said, the rage in him burning hotter. "You. Swore. An. Oath. You would forsake that to go... kiss the ass of someone who enables a tyrant?"  
  
"Aulë," Nerdanel said quietly, "has been very generous to my Oma, and to me, _and to you._ He gave you a gift -"  
  
" _That gift was already there._ He had _nothing_ to do with it, he will not take credit for _my_ work. _My_ ideas. _Mine._ "  
  
Fëanor did not like raising his voice with his wife, but now his voice rang out over the hills and valley. And as soon as those words were out of his mouth, Fëanor knew it was useless to keep arguing with her - it was one thing to know they had been fundamentally mismatched for awhile, another thing for her to outright oppose him, and break an oath in that opposition.  
  
Now it was time for him to take his leave. He turned on his heel, and walked away, not looking back.  
  
It was the last time he ever saw her. As his household made the trek out of Tirion, heading for Formenos the next day, Nerdanel was not there to say goodbye.  
  
  
_  
  
  
A year later, he still missed her. He looked up at the sky and watched the Light of the Trees change from silver to gold and thought of Finarfin's hair... then he thought of Nerdanel, and how many times they'd watched the light change together, and wondered if she was watching it now.  
  
He was still hurt. He was still angry. He still felt betrayed. He still cried in private, when nobody was looking or listening, though he knew Maglor could hear it in the Song. He knew that he and Nerdanel were bad for each other, and they needed to live separate lives, and with time and distance he saw the separation probably should have happened long ago.  
  
But a part of him would always care for her, after everything. Once Fëanáro Finwion gave his heart to someone, that was how it was. He was the Flame Imperishable; he did not ever stop burning, and that fire was love.  
  
He hoped she knew that, somehow.


End file.
